


Dinner on Darillium

by sevenlostkeys



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Darillium (Doctor Who), Dinner Conversation, Episode: 2015 Xmas The Husbands of River Song, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Non-Graphic Smut, Post-Episode: 2015 Xmas The Husbands of River Song, Resolved Sexual Tension, Singing Towers of Darillium, Spoilers for Episode: 2015 Xmas The Husbands of River Song, Unresolved Emotional Tension, fancy food and drink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:09:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27498496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenlostkeys/pseuds/sevenlostkeys
Summary: ...and they lived happily ever after. But they still have to have dinner and sort themselves out.
Relationships: The Doctor & River Song, The Doctor/River Song, Twelfth Doctor & River Song, Twelfth Doctor/River Song
Comments: 28
Kudos: 39





	1. Apéritif and Amuse-bouche

“...how long is a night on Darillium?” River Song asked, hesitantly. She could already feel the hours slipping away. Considering the Doctor was a time lord, there never seemed to be enough. She steeled herself for the worst.

The Twelfth Doctor gazed down at her then, a small, knowing smirk coming to his lips. “Twenty-four years,” he said, voice husky with emotion.

That man...that impossible man. If he’d been his younger self, she would have smacked him right this instant. Instead, she choked down a sob, trying not to cry. _Never let him see the damage._

She turned back to look at the towers. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” he whispered. 

She looked back at him then and realized he’d moved closer to her. She tipped her gaze upwards, her lips pursing into a grin. It was a real smile, full of joy. Usually, her smiles hid everything she was actually feeling. 

He looked back at her, trying to take her all in, to crystalize her beauty in this small moment. He’d hurt her for years -- his fault for trying to outrun his other selves -- but she was still here, by his side. _Married the diamond._ And what a diamond she was. He wanted to make it right, erase all the wrongs. But she didn’t know him, at least not yet, not like this. Best to start somewhere. He could feel her leaning in closer…he cleared his throat slightly to softly break the moment.

“Dinner awaits, my dear song...will you do this ancient monolith the honor?” 

As always, she played along. “I’d be delighted,” her voice pitching up to its typical flirtatious tone. 

He escorted her to their private dinner table, helping her settle into the brocade-backed chair. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering some champagne,” he offered. 

“Dare I ask what else is on the menu?” she said, still flirting. She wasn’t sure how it’d land with him -- The Eleventh Doctor often indulged her, but this new, older man in front of her was different. A bit more distinguished, his sense of humor drier than the glass of bubbly he’d just poured her.

“Well, I thought, since we’re always rushing about, that we’d have a proper meal for once,” he said, a bit shy. “My timing hasn’t been the best, despite being a time traveler.” 

_Was he...apologizing?_ River startled. _Who was he? What had he seen in these years without her?_

“Sometimes it can’t be helped,” she said, trying to give him some grace. “I should know.” 

The wait staff arrived with an amuse-bouche of caviar toast points. He really was pulling out all the stops. 

“Mmmm, caviar -- my favorite! How did you know?” 

“The Maître d' and I are on a first-name basis -- well, his first name, anyhow,” he laughed slightly. “Tonight’s meal consists of all your favorite dishes...at least the ones I could work out. You’re a very busy woman...with expensive taste.” 

She warmed. “Might as well make the most of life,” she said nibbling on a toast point. “I only have one after all.”

“My fault as well,” he said, his tone solemn. “I could have just swanned off in a tux and tails...wouldn’t have been a bad exit.” 

“It was a leap of faith. I don’t regret it,” she said. “Even when things are...complicated. I know whatever journey I’m on will lead back to you.” 

“Here’s to the back roads, then,” he said, raising his champagne flute. “I’m not too familiar with the slow path, so you’ll have to show me around.”


	2. Hors-d'œuvres

The appetizer course arrived. The raw oysters were swimming in aromatic butter and bejeweled with pomegranates. 

“Are you perhaps tempting me to some secret underworld, Doctor?” she flirted, lifting a shell to her mouth. 

“Oh, I’m no Hades,” he mused. “No silver whistle nor golden scale, but there’s no denying you’re a queen I can’t be without.” 

Now, that had to be the wine talking. Still, she blushed, luxuriating in the compliment.

“And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like anything less,” he continued, his tone measured but earnest. “Earlier, on the ship, when you were stalling -- to see how much you thought I didn’t care. I lose people all the time --” 

He paused, trying to place memories of Clara but it was like a lost melody buzzing on his electric guitar. His thoughts shifted to Amy’s tear-filled face in Manhattan and how it had been River who bravely told her to go be with Rory. He was the one that always got in the way.

River slid her right hand across the table to squeeze his left hand. 

“Darling...I understand,” she reassured him. “More than you know.” 

He never tired of her touch, even if he outwardly acted to the contrary. He was just too stubborn to give in, to let her in. Yet she was warm and familiar. She smelled of jasmine and honeyed amber and earth. 

She noticed his green amber ring, glimmering in the dusk.

“I haven’t seen you wear a ring in quite a long time,” she remarked, thinking of his earlier incarnations. “But never on that particular finger.” 

“Well, I wasn’t married then,” he said simply, turning his palm over so he could hold her proffered hand. “I suppose I’m old fashioned, wanting a tangible reminder of my wife.” His voice had gone dark again, his gaze intense. His long elegant fingers were running across her wrist taping out a secret kind morse code. 

River could feel her pulse quickening. In all her encounters, he had never been like this before. She was used to a certain sort of flirtation matched with befuddled genius. This serious exterior barely cloaked a deep longing. How many companions had he lost since her parents? How much older was he? 

“Doctor, I never took you for someone who could be smitten.” 

“Besotted, more like.” 

River downed her glass of champagne with her free hand. The fizzy dry wine blurred the edges of her thoughts and cooled the heat coiling in her belly. If he kept going on like that, she wouldn’t be able to make it through this dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you caught the Hadestown reference, make yourself a nice drink.


	3. Soupes et Salades

The wait staff broke the moment with the change of courses, bringing petite ramekins of French onion soup, as well as a fresh bottle of champagne. 

“Darling, will you excuse me a moment?” River asked, defaulting to her boisterous tone. “I just need to powder my nose.” 

“Of course,” he said, turning his glance back to the towers and the slowly setting sun. 

She moved through the vined labyrinth of lights and into the public dining room, where the overlapping conversations and clanging of silverware drowned out her thoughts. She spotted the loo. Once inside the powder room, she leaned against the marble vanity and let out a deep breath that she felt like she’d been holding in for hours. 

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was flushed and despite the cool night air settling in, she felt sweaty. Should she take her hair down or leave it up? Why had she decided on feathers? 

She shrugged the feather capelet off and grabbed a paper towel to pat her face dry. She fiddled with her hair a bit, repinning any curls that had come loose. 

_That’s better_ , she thought. _Mustn't keep him waiting._

She exited the loo, making a quick side trip to the TARDIS to stow her feather capelet. When she returned, the Doctor was still staring at the towers, his food untouched. The towers’ song was beginning to drift away, growing as faint as the sunlight, now a deep blood red.

“Freshly powdered,” River said. 

“I see you moved your hair about again,” he said, smiling.

“Nothing goes amiss with you, does it?” 

“Oh, there’s plenty...I’m just good at deflecting.”

“It seems we’re similar in that way,” she mused, taking a sip of champagne. 

They both relaxed a little then, letting moments of silence slip in as they enjoyed the rich soup, and basked in the glow of the setting sun. Small winter salads of spinach, candied pecans, green apples, and gorgonzola arrived next.

River honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a nice meal. Sure, she often found herself at parties or intergalactic galas, but she usually never got past the first round of drinks if she was on the hunt for intel or treasure. And if she was on a location dig, it meant she defaulted to her trusty lunch kit with dried foodstuffs, vitamin packs, and hydrogen-infused water. 

If she’d have to guess, the last time she’d shared a meal with the Doctor was...the picnic at Lake Silencio? She’d have to double-check her diary to be certain.

“Well, Doctor, I must say, this is all very impressive,” she said, turning on the charm. “A real holiday treat.” 

The Twelfth Doctor shrugged slightly. “It was the least I could do -- the real gift is being able to spend time with you. I didn’t ever mean for it to take this long. I hope tonight can be the start of something new. No more syncing diaries or lying --” 

He paused, considering the one secret he still had to keep -- the knowing where she was headed next. What had she said earlier? Happily ever after doesn’t mean forever...it just means time. Then he’d give her all he could. He couldn’t do it for Clara, lost between her last heartbeat and the darkness of death. But River was right here, warm and breathing in front of his very eyes. He could slow down time. Just this once, he would sit still and let her wonder envelope him.

“So does that mean no short trips on the TARDIS?”

“Only if you want,” he laughed. “I mean I’m sure we could do a weekend getaway of sorts...that’s what normal people do, I suppose? Although we do have a whole planet to explore here, as well as the best table in the universe.” 

“I hope you’re not mad that I stole her from time to time,” River said, referencing the TARDIS.

“Just as long as you remember to put the brakes back on when you’re done,” he joked. “Also, I’d forgotten I even had brandy stowed away.”

“Looks like I’ll need to show you around a bit after dinner then,” River said cheekily. 

“I look forward to it,” the Doctor said, finally easing into this flirting business. His former incarnation was much better at it. That’s what bow ties and tight jeans got him. He poured himself another glass of champagne and topped River’s flute off for good measure. He could finally feel their collective nervousness melting away over each course. His only regret was he had waited this long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're at the halfway point. The next course is going to be emotional, so seatbelts everyone.


	4. Plats Principaux

“So what’s next?” River asked, edging a bit closer. 

“I’ll admit, this was the hardest course to nail down,” the Doctor said. “I actually had to call in your other husbands for help.” He hoped he lightened his tone enough not to seem jealous. 

As if on cue, the wait staff delivered five-spice duck breast with a blackberry reduction.  
“You really did do your research,” she murmured. “I’ve loved this since I had its most authentic form in Chinatown with my parents.” The words were already out of her mouth before she realized. He couldn’t visit them, not after Manhattan.

“Were you able to see them often?” the Doctor managed, taking a very deliberate sip of champagne. 

“Not as often as I would have liked,” she said, her eyes misting up. “We made it work, though, as we always did.” 

“Were they happy?” His voice had gone dark again, full of longing and regret. He shifted in his chair, smoothing his jacket in now-chilly air.

“It was a bit jarring at first for them, watching history unfold around them for long periods of time,” River explained. “I’d help fill in the gaps to keep them from unraveling time further. Other times, I’d just try to soothe.” 

“I wish I could have saved them both -- for you more so than me.” 

“Time is fickle,” she said. “We made the best of it. And--” She stopped, exhaling.

“What?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“They always set a place for you at Christmas -- even though they both knew -- Mum still insisted.” 

“Just in case,” he murmured. 

“She was sentimental that way, even after she made her peace with it,” River said, pushing a blackberry around on her plate. “Us Ponds...we’re acclimated to waiting. You’d say it runs in our DNA.” 

The Twelfth Doctor pushed away the vision of little Amelia Pond bundled up and asleep on top of her suitcase. Like a fairytale. And Amy’s and Rory’s was finished...he could make River happy in what little time they had. Twenty four years was a sliver of time for him, like a dash in a telegram. He had to make every moment count for her, even if he knew her ending.

“Patience is a virtue,” the Doctor managed. “It’s not something I’m adept at, but you all -- Amy, Rory, you -- you deserved so much better than the mess I made of your lives.”

“Doctor!” She could feel the blood rushing to her face. “All those so-called messes made us all who we were. Who knows if I’d even be here if you never crashed in Mum’s garden shed. I told you earlier -- I do not regret anything. You were -- are -- our beacon in a very dark world. My mother never regretted her choice, because it meant she and Dad could be together. There was that time where you helped fix things for them when Mum had him given up. They were able to live long and happy lives. What did you tell me once? _Always and completely forgiven_.” 

Their entrees had grown cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heavy course, to be sure. It lightens a bit from here on out.


	5. Fromage et Dessert

The gentle clattering of the dessert cart broke the heavy silence between them. Their barely touched entrees were replaced with chilled ramekins of creme brulee with a glittering sugar crust and flambeed orange accent. A small cheese platter dotted with figs and honeycomb was placed in the center of the table. 

“It’s blood orange chocolate creme brulee,” The Doctor offered. 

“Mmmm,” River practically purred, turning on the charm again. It’s what had protected her all these years. “I’m ready to dive in if you are.” She tapped the fine sugar crust, bringing a small spoonful to her lips. 

It tasted like those foil-wrapped chocolate oranges at Christmastime, or the sort of frivolous boozy concoctions one would drink poolside at an intergalactic getaway in the dead of summer. 

“Quite lush, no?” he asked, trying for small talk. It wasn’t his strong suit, but he adored when she relished something. 

“Very much so,” she said between delicate bites. “Is there a beach on this planet?” 

“The TARDIS would know for sure -- or you can use your sonic,” he said, motioning towards the glittering gold gift box on the edge of the table. 

“Either way,” she started. “I’d love to go for a dip.”

“I never took you for a night swimmer.” 

“Good for settling my nerves when I can’t sleep,” she explained. “Especially grounding when I’ve cycled through too many time zones. Moons have a constant rhythm, no matter the galaxy.” 

“You’re full of surprises, River.” 

“And full from a truly magnificent meal, Doctor,” she brightened. “I take it this is our table for the foreseeable future.” 

“Of course. It was nearly impossible to get a reservation,” he said. “But I pulled some strings,” he chuckled, remembering the diamond he’d given away. 

It didn’t glitter as brightly as the woman in front of him, a goddess among mortals in her wine-hued beaded gown. What had she called him? A sunset? It didn’t matter. He loved her back. He just had to make her believe it, after all this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have built the entire meal around this creme brulee. Woops.


	6. Digestif

“So, do I have cognac on the TARDIS?” the Doctor asked jokingly because he honestly wasn’t sure. “I figured we’d retire for after-dinner drinks.”

“I believe so...and if not, I know just the spot to pick up the best bottle…” River started. 

“No trips tonight, my dear,” he stopped her. “You know how things can go sideways for us both.” 

“Quite right,” she managed, still adjusting to his intense aura, especially after all the bubbly. She stood up slowly and walked to the balcony for one last look. 

The towers’ song had died down to a faint whisper, almost like a memory of a song unraveling in the breeze. She felt him behind her, a hand ghosting up her back to fix a stray tendril that had come loose in the cool night air. His arms slid around her from behind and he buried his head in her neck. She melted into his embrace, skin prickling from the soft kisses he trailed from the small of her neck to her right ear. 

“Shall we?” he whispered, voice gravelly against her smooth skin. 

She nodded quietly, overcome with emotions. So many events had finally led her here, to him, to possibly the end. After running so long, slowing down felt jarring. Whatever mental armor she’d built up over the years was no match for this moment. When she’d traveled with the Doctor before, and there’d been moments like these, it always felt like she’d enjoyed them at a distance, but in truth, she’d never really let go. She couldn’t. It would hurt too much. But now? Perhaps. In a different way. She should have surrendered long ago.

He offered her his arm, which she took, stopping briefly at the table to collect his present. When they arrived at the TARDIS, he snapped his fingers and beckoned her to enter first. The ship’s familiar hum and bleeps set the Doctor and River at ease. It was the closest thing they had to a real home. 

“I’ll fix us a nightcap,” she offered, a bounce in her step. “Cognac, you said?” She went over to the hidden bar and rummaged through the fine crystal decanters until she found it, stashed away at the back. She poured them a small dram each when she heard the music start, that swaying mix of jazz and rock. 

_“Love me, love me, love me, love me  
Say you do…”_

She turned around a glass in each hand. The Doctor had discarded his coat and cravat and he was leaning against the console, hands in his pockets. 

“Ah, the Thin White Duke,” she said.

“Only the best.” 

“It’s a pity everyone on Earth thinks he’s gone,” River joked, right arm outstretched, offering the Doctor his drink. 

“Everyone has to go home at some point,” he said, taking the drink in his left hand, tipping it to and fro so the liquor swirled a bit. 

“You look a bit like him, in this body.”

River nursed her drink, and the Doctor took the odd sip. He propped his glass on the console, turning to River. 

“Dance with me,” his left hand now outstretched. She set her drink next to his and draped her arms around his neck, while his found her waist. 

“I can’t remember the last time we did this.” 

“Then it means it’s been too long, River.” 

The music swelled, and the Doctor ran his right hand up the small of her back, his palm pressed firmly between her shoulder blades, pulling her closer. He gazed down at her, his eyes glimmering. 

River’s face softened, her lips easing into a small smile. 

He kissed her deeply then, tightening his embrace. Her breath caught in her throat and her hands ran through his silver hair before slipping down to his chest to steady herself.

_“Don't you know you're  
Life itself?”_

Without breaking the kiss, he picked her up and carried her down the corridor to the bedroom. He set her on the very edge of the bed, kneeling down to undo the tiny buckles of her chunky-heeled sandals. River leaned back on her elbows, drinking in his efforts. They’d been intimate many times, but this incarnation was really pulling out all the stops. 

His long elegant fingers ran across her ankles and up over her beaded dress. 

“Are you sure this gown isn’t some sort of weapon?” he mused. “I feel like I’m cutting my hands up on all this...decoration.” 

“Oh...one moment,” she said, producing her magic perfume bottle from a hidden pocket on her dress. One spray did the trick and she was suddenly dressed in a floor-length long-sleeved black lace robe. Despite covering her, it left little to the imagination and revealed she had nothing on underneath. He was wordless, but his raised eyebrows said everything.

She grabbed him by his waistcoat and pulled him up onto the bed, kissing him. He shifted slightly, allowing her to straddle him. Her fingers worked at undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and waistcoat. 

His left arm wrapped around her waist while his right hand plucked the bobby pins and hair ties from her updo, causing her curls to cascade down onto her shoulders. His hand tugged at one of the tendrils before running down her neck, his fingers pulling at the satin ribbon stays of her robe. They gave way easy and he parted the lace gently so he could touch her bare skin. She was warm to the touch, heart fluttering hard. His hand dipped further down past her stomach. She was already damp between her legs.

He broke the kiss, breathing hard against her collarbone.

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I’ve ever been,” she said breathlessly, her hands fumbling with his belt.

She made quick work of getting his trousers open -- she’d joked many a time with his former floppy-haired incarnation that she was better at that than him -- and lifted herself onto him. They both startled a bit, adjusting to the pressure of their bodies joining. It had been a long time since they’d done this and they were different people, by varying degrees. 

River’s exhale turned into a sigh, and the Doctor stayed still, letting his hands snake beneath her robe and pressing into the small of her back.

“I do like this new body,” she cooed breathily, undulating against him.

“Shut up and drive,” he growled. 

She increased her speed, grabbing fistfuls of his hair, making his head jut back. He swallowed hard, licking his lips, never breaking his gaze. His hands moved up to her breasts, thumbs whispering over her nipples. He wanted to watch her come undone under his grasp.

She pulled at his dress shirt, trying to steady herself. She finally met his gaze. Goddess, this one was the definition of intensity. She felt flushed and her body ached. She began shrugging the robe off her shoulders and his hands were suddenly there, pulling away the thin garment. She was completely naked in front of him now, in more ways than one. Outwardly she didn’t look older than the day they’d first met. In some cases, she even looked younger -- the one perk of whatever time lord DNA she’d been gifted by the TARDIS. But inside, she’d changed. Sometimes it took her years to trust him all over again. But this one -- the way he’d held her hand at dinner, his gaze, the ring, the menu, the dancing -- was he the one she’d meant to love all along? She bit her lip, bringing herself back to the present moment. 

He must have realized she was drifting. His hands firmly grasped her hips and he turned them quickly, so her back came to rest on the bed, her hair splayed out like a crown. Hands still on her hips, he pulled away, almost breaking their bond, only to plunge deeper into her. She gasped, arching her back, urging him on. He continued his ministrations, knowing full well it was driving her mad. He could see it in how her hands curled around the duvet, the uptick in her breathing, the flush on her cheeks. 

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his body tensing for release. 

“Wh-aatt?” She asked breathlessly. 

“Tell me what you want, River,” he said darkly, enunciating each word with precision.

“You...I want you...please...I...” 

That was all he needed. He just wanted to hear it...just once, like this. He moved his left hand between her legs. He pinched and plucked at just the right angles while filling her completely. She pulled him down to her then, arms and legs wrapping around him as they both shuddered, their shared release blotting out everything else. 

He rolled to the side as not to crush her but her grasp was firm, almost like she was afraid he would leave again. Her face was buried in his chest, but he could tell she was softly crying. 

“River, shhh, it’s okay, I’m here. Look, I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.” 

She looked up at him then, eyes glossy, hair tangled like a bird’s nest. 

“Promise me.” 

“I promise. With both hearts.” He held her left hand to his chest. He kissed her forehead, murmuring the words, again and again, needing her to believe him. “Hold on,” he said, leaning over the side of the bed to grab something. 

Before she knew it, he was pulling an oversized torn black jumper over her head. She hadn’t realized how chilly it was in the room until now. She looked at all the holes in it and laughed.

“Are you going through some sort of goth phase?” she quipped.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “Anyhow...I had something made for you, too. Hopefully, your ring size hasn’t changed since your dress size.” 

She swatted at him playfully as he threw a small ring box in her direction. He turned away to straighten his clothes a bit, leaving his shirt undone. 

The ring box opened with a snap. It was a green amber ring, encased in an art deco silver setting. 

“I know it’s not a diamond, but I figured you were diamond enough for both of us,” he said. “The stone was gathered from the same planet as mine. I like to think it matches your eyes in a certain light. Anyway, you can wear it as much or as little as you like...I know our lives are...complicated.” 

“Oh Doctor, it’s beautiful,” she said, slipping it on her left-hand ring finger. She pulled him down next to her, the events of the last few days finally catching up with her. He relaxed into her embrace, letting her snuggle closer to his chest. It didn’t take much for her to drift off. His fingers found her hair then, gently working out the tangles. He began to sing, ever so quietly: 

_“Like a leaf clings  
To the tree  
Oh, my darling,  
Cling to me  
For we're like creatures  
In the wind  
And wild is the wind  
Wild is the wind…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song referenced is "Wild is the Wind" by David Bowie. 
> 
> Thanks for coming along for the ride!

**Author's Note:**

> Feeling some type of way about 12/River and googling fancy recipes led me here. This is my first attempt at anything chaptered, so be gentle.


End file.
